The Rainy Days
by LilyBartAndTheOthers
Summary: She wasn't sure what the worst actually was. The downfall of her marriage or the lies that would get him trapped in her arms. WK fic
1. There Was a Time

A smile only hid prohibited cries.

Nobody ever noticed but if you had paid attention you would have seen the dark shades in her eyes. It didn't match the rest, the brightness of her features lit up by the smile playing on her lips. Perhaps it was the exact spring of her singular beauty. The harshness of her gaze found an odd resonance _ a lame one _ in her appearing serenity and you couldn't help falling under her charms, as cold as they were.

She wasn't happy but it was easier to fool everyone.

A woman passed, holding tightly a broken umbrella. The wind made her hair dance a strange ballet in the air, a delicate and fragile one; hypnotizing somehow. She disappeared at the corner of the street and as the green light got reflected against the leather seats, the cab also went away in the indifference brought to what people called random facts.

"Are you tired?"

She shook her head and abandoned the contemplation of the street to study her lap instead. The paleness of her hands against her black skirt produced a sharp contrast, vaguely disturbing as if she had stopped breathing a long time ago and was now the lonely soul of a ghost wandering between two different kingdoms; unable to accept the idea of an eternal rest far from the world it had taken her so long to get accustomed to.

"I wouldn't say no to a relaxing bubble bath and a glass of red wine."

Too resigned to argue she simply smiled at him with controlled politeness. The words were spinning in her head _ a thousand ones a second _ but none of them managed to reach her lips and even less hit the air. She didn't want to speak, didn't want to communicate in any way. She was carried on by a wave of sadness that needed silence to get strength.

It didn't stop him though.

"And maybe have dinner too… I guess I am actually starving, aren't you? This flight seemed like it would never end."

She raised her eyebrows, comprehensively, and silently sighed of relief as the trees of Green Park appeared on their left very soon followed by the golden lights of the five-star hotel.

The cold breeze sent shivers down her spine as the door of the cab got opened and she stepped outside.

"Welcome to the Ritz, Mrs. Walker."

She had loved the attention once, as well as the oriental carpets and the subtle smell of cigar that seemed to have invaded the palace. It used to reign an old elegance that couldn't be found anywhere else and whenever she passed the doors of the hotel, she felt part of a prestigious world.

Now it all looked bare, heavy and she wanted nothing but to run away.

A sigh of relief accompanied the closing of the door of her suite. She took her stilettos off and walked to the large windows. People were walking on the street. They looked determined, happy to be where they were, to do what they did.

Most of them weren't as wealthy as she was but at least life seemed to give them some credits when she only had vodka and a dozen bottles of painkillers to ease an invisible pain that had never really existed.

Her cell phone rang somewhere in the background. She should have turned around and looked for it in her bag but instead she remained still observing the passers-by a few stories below.

There was a time when she would have barely unpacked and rushed out to hit the streets immediately, hands in the pockets of her coat. She would have closed her eyes and taken a deep, long breath as the air of London would have filled her lungs, going to her head bewitchingly. And she would have smiled, with honesty.

There was a time when she used to do all these things but now she simply sat down on her bed and began to cry quietly.

This time the phone of her room rang and she had no choice but to pick it up as the number of the suite next door appeared on the screen.

"Yes…"

"Sorry, do I disturb you? You sound disarmed."

And she was but stifling her cries she managed to swallow hard. Her tears got immediately replaced by a melancholic smile.

"No, not at all… I was just unpacking."

"Good, I wanted to tell you that I have booked a table for two at the restaurant in thirty minutes."

She wasn't hungry, even less in a talkative mood but she nonetheless nodded enthusiastically. She had to.

"I will wait for you in the lobby. By the way, I have just had a call from Stanley. He said you didn't answer your cell phone. Obviously you forgot to turn it on."

"Yeah, I am going to have a shower now. Thank you for calling, honey."

There was a time when she could barely wait for the landing of the plane to call her husband. His voice had always sounded reassuring to her ear, sweet and strong at the same time. The dedication he had for her eased a few invisible scars that had damaged her heart and if she could have spent the whole day in his arms, she would have been so fine.

But those days were gone, far, very far as the sublime of their light had been buried under a thousand bitter lies.

And the rain kept on falling icily over her life.

Thirty minutes later she made it to the lobby in a Givenchy black, ankle-length dress; diamonds on her ears. Will was standing by the lounge, falsely plunged into the read of The London Times.

He looked up and smiled at her.

She didn't really have a choice. What kind of person would have burst into cries?

She smiled in return, clenching her fists; biting the inside of her mouth.


	2. Beauchamp Place

She shouldn't have opened her eyes. When the pale light of the morning had caressed her face, she should have rolled on her side in bed and remained in the darkness of her thoughts. Her loneliness wouldn't have hit her so harshly. Perhaps she would have even fantasized about a couple of things.

But instead she had opened her eyes and swallowed hard before the emptiness of the hotel suite.

When this odd sentiment of heaviness had begun to spread over her soul, she had thought that travelling would ease the pain. Changing place, rushing away from her Manhattan routine; it was all we needed to feel fine again when coming back. But it hadn't worked out that much and the tension between Stanley and her hadn't stopped increasing.

Some people would have said that they were just going through a crisis and even though she nodded to them politely, she knew deep inside that the discomfort went farer than a mere rough patch.

She saw it more like a series of failures, inevitable ones.

"I can't believe you didn't buy this diamond ring. It was the purest gem I had ever seen."

"It was too big. The secret about jewels lies in their subtlety. The line has to be pure and graceful. When big, you are flirting with the limits of vulgarity."

Will raised a dubitative eyebrow but seemed to accept her remark and took a sip of his fruit juice instead. She had decided to go shopping _ the atmosphere of the suite becoming oppressive _ and against all expectations he had agreed to come along.

The morning had faded away for a long time but they hadn't had lunch yet, preferring instead the luxurious boutiques of Beauchamp Place to any restaurant of some sort. But after a few hours, they had finally decided to sit down for a while and have a drink.

He was nice, fulfilling his role to perfection; just as required. They hadn't argued yet and as much as she had tried to find a way to get on his nerves in order to go back to some routine, she had had to accept her defeat, recognizing thus the peculiar strength of their friendship.

"So tell me a bit more about The Doves of London."

At the name of the association, she couldn't help rolling her eyes and sighed loudly. Perhaps she always added a little dramatic effect to her reaction but the truth was that it didn't interest her the slightest bit.

"It is some charity thing that Stanley says I have to attend, to give a good image of him, of us… It is basically about shelters for children and teenagers. They organize this evening party every year where I have to go. This year Stanley couldn't make it because of Walker Inc. That's it."

"Have you ever visited one of those places?"

"Yes, they are all over the city; mostly in the East, though. It is important to be seen and noticed when you belong to the high society; no matters it is just appearances."

"But if it only lasts for an evening… Why do we have to stay here for a whole week?"

She smiled at him, a bit disabused. As a matter of fact, she could almost feel the tears brush her eyes, how they sore under the salty liquid. She swept it all away with a shrug and looked up at the ceiling of the bar.

"Stanley thought I might need it."

As planned her reply made him vaguely uncomfortable and something hurt in her heart.

"You know, honey… You don't have to stay with me 24 hours a day. You can do your stuff on your own and meet me for dinner. It will be fine with me."

But Will shook his head then shrugged away her suggestion. She took a sip of her juice, alcohol-free. Sometimes it was good to stop pretending.

"How much did he give you to be with me? How much did you accept to put your job in Manhattan into parenthesis and accompany me to London like that?"

"Why are you asking me that?"

"I want to know how worth I am in the eyes of my husband."

"Karen, don't say that."

"Oh I am still sure it was a very interesting deal for you or you wouldn't have come over here. Forget it then. It was just pure curiosity."

"I guess it is time for us to go back to the hotel."

"Did I shock you?"

She gave him an amused smile to hide even better the way she actually wanted to cry. It was still entertaining though, even if it hurt a little.

"I am not sure you will ever manage to really shock me one day, Karen Walker. Now let's go back to the Ritz to have lunch in my suite. This is on me."

"Oh please… This is on Stanley. We both know it."

In her head, she had always assimilated London to the rain, heavy clouds and wind that ran icily along her spine. She had learned to love it that way and how the colors of the trees adopted a melancholic shade under the glimmering drops of water falling from a dark sky upon her head as she took a walk through Regent's Park. The yellow cabs of Manhattan turned black in England, with elegance and quietness. And there was something delicate in the air, something bewitching.

But as she looked up at the sky before stepping into the lobby of the palace, following Will in silence, Karen wondered when the sun had decided to intrude the peculiar dark shades of the English sky.

It didn't match with her memories, with the scene; and even less with her regrets.


	3. The Notebook

The room was clean, so neat in comparison with her suite where most of the items had been abandoned haphazardly with the passing of time.

She crossed her arms on her chest, fighting absent-mindedly against a sentiment of discomfort and made a few steps forward. She didn't like the impersonal aspect that Will's tidiness procured to the place. It seemed lifeless, too close to the Upper East Side mansion where she spent most of the days; the so-called nest of her marriage.

"Give me five minutes, please."

She nodded, stupidly enough since he couldn't see her for being in the bathroom but she didn't add anything and sat instead at the coffee table. A small notebook was resting there, a pen by its side. It wasn't his agenda; she had seen it too many times.

Her heart speeded up its pace as curiosity increased and spread adrenalin through her veins. She turned her head quickly to look at the bathroom door then grabbed the notebook, opened it.

It was Will's handwriting.

_Distant… Odd dream… Wish I could hold her hand… The softness of her lips… Obsessed… The sadness in her voice that nobody notices but me…_

The words were sliding before her eyes in a complete confusion and as her breath became short, she began to panic. There were pages and pages about her, descriptions of all sorts and intimate thoughts; from Will, to her.

She swallowed hard.

The door of the bathroom got opened and she let go of the notebook immediately, grabbed a newspaper instead then settled down on the sofa, trying to ignore how her hands were shaking uncontrollably.

"How come it takes you so long when we just go for a walk to Hyde Park, honey?"

The quietness of her voice surprised her and she smiled, pleased by the composure she had managed to get in spite of her disturbing discovery.

She didn't look at him as he grabbed the notebook and put it on a shelf, nonchalantly. He seemed to be serene not at all worried by the fact she might have read what looked like a very personal diary.

This is when she realized that he was very good at lying.

"Are you ready or do you want to stay here to read The Economist? I would have never imagined that you actually were interested in this kind of press…"

His amused smile emphasized the lightness of his remark but she nonetheless blushed as if trapped in her own nets. She just couldn't tell him that she had grabbed the first newspapers she had found so that he wouldn't have to face the fact she had intruded what looked like his deepest thoughts towards her.

"Let's go now. I want to see The Serpentine."

They stepped out of the Ritz in a perfect silence, crossed Green Park before finally reaching the gates of the immense green lawn on the other side of the road.

She hadn't bothered him that much that day, spent an incredible amount of time in the bath tub then given a quick call to Stanley. But the heavy clouds suddenly covering the blue sky had warmed up her heart and just before lunch time she had offered him to take a walk to Hyde Park. With some chance it would rain when they approached the pond and the smell of the grass would get mixed to the sound of the drops falling on the water as the cold breeze would embrace their napes silently.

It was all she wanted, some darkness to match her feelings.

"So I had Grace on the phone last night and she said that Jack was getting on her nerves. Apparently you are a better assistant than he is. Who would have guessed?"

She laughed lightly, by pure politeness though. Since they had arrived in London, she hadn't been in the mood for anything. It seemed that every second weighed on her shoulders, buried her heart into the depths of an incomprehensible sadness and she felt lost in the end; terribly alone.

Like about to…

"What is happening to you, Karen?"

The question took her completely aback and she stopped in the middle of the path. A squirrel crossed, passing a few inches away from her ankle. She looked at it, desperate to win some time before having to give any explanation to her friend.

"I am fine. Why are you asking me that?"

She stared at his hands disappear in the pockets of his coat. He sighed, shook his head.

"There are just the two of us, here. You can't find any better timing, Kare, and you know it."

Her eyes began to sore. She frowned to prevent the tears from falling as a latent pain was pressing on her throat.

"I… There's nothing."

She bit her lower lip as he groaned in frustration. Her eyes were fixed on the ground, unable as she was to look at him properly. Her cheeks were burning high. She had never felt so stupid.

"But you know you can trust me, right? You know that if at some point you need to speak, here I am, by your side. And it goes above any amount of money I could receive from Stanley. It has no price and it will never have. When you feel ready, don't even knock on my door just come in. And don't be afraid to tell me the reason of your pain. Do you hear me? I hope you do, Karen. I don't like you suffering."

The air hit her flesh icily as she took her hands out of the pockets of her coat and grabbed his arms instead. She looked into his eyes briefly, took a deep breath and leaned over to capture his lips in a soft, chaste kiss.

She broke apart before crossing the limits of their friendship and smiled at him. He looked confused. She shrugged.

"Thank you for being here, Will. That is."


	4. A Tandori Chicken

He wasn't indifferent to her and so what? If she had had to be honest, she would confess that she had actually fantasized about it a thousand times. It was more a matter of integrity than anything else _ a powerful pride _ but it was still there, in her thoughts. And now it had crossed the limits of fiction to make one with reality, it left her confused; extremely troubled before all the things it meant.

"Don't be worried, we won't stay very long there. Within an hour I should be done."

"I don't really mind. You should take your time. It is important, after all."

The cab stopped at the street light and she cast a furtive glance at him. Sat on the other side of the couch, he looked quiet and serene; almost condescending.

_How can you remain so calm when you are with me if I nourish your mind of fantasies?_

The black car moved forward. She cleared her voice, a bit pointlessly though.

She had dreamed about him the night before. It had been brief, blurry and yet it hadn't left her mind from then on. Her subconscious had led her to his sigh dying in the depth of her neck as his hand was running on her thigh and they were having passionate sex.

The heat rushed to her cheeks as the reminiscence of her dream hit her head into such a narrow place that the cab was.

He was good-looking, a lot of charm and rather nice. She would have never denied the fact he actually was very appealing but it was the first time she had ever fantasized like that about him, in such a crude and realistic way. It was disturbing.

"The Doves of London… Here we are."

Instinctively she looked by the window, following his words, and saw how a brick building appeared at the very far end of a dirty street. She took a deep breath, sighed heavily then stepped out as the car finally stopped.

"Let's just get over that. I don't want to miss the rain outside."

What she hated the most was their imploring eyes, how they seemed to ask in silence a way to get taken out of the rickety place where they were just dying, deprived of a so-called life. And among the misery she dared to walk through the dozens kids wearing haute-couture suits and Italian shoes; a handbag more expensive than their whole wardrobe.

If she had been one of them, she would have hated herself.

The hour spent there looked interminable, a long and torturous lapse of time that weighed more and more on her heart. When they finally stepped out, her nails had dug half-moons in the palms of her hands, by frustration and anger; a sort of incomprehensible pain.

"You don't interact that much with them."

Was it a reproach?

She took it bad.

"I am not supposed to. I only come to sign a check."

Her insensitive reply made him scoff and shake his head in disbelief. She didn't want to be nasty in the first place or sound heartless but it seemed that she had no control over the sharpness of her remarks. The words hit the air before she could restrain them and everything was said, within a second.

But her impulsivity only hid a deep discomfort towards the situations she was facing.

"Let's take by Shoreditch now. I want to be there when it rains."

"Why are you so obsessed with the rain?"

She plunged her hands in the pockets of her coat and shrugged, delighted by the question.

"It exalts the smells, softens the colors and gives the world a very unique shade. A tandori chicken isn't the same under the rain and since we're in the East… You have to witness it, to fully live it if you want to understand what I mean."

"So we don't hail a cab?"

"No, we are going to walk. For a little while…"

They headed down the street in silence, Will amused by her unexpected behavior as a bright smile of hope lit up her features. And she was right. As soon as they hit the first Indian restaurants, rain drops began to fall down softly.

It was a show of colors, smells and foreign languages. For every step they made, it was one more that took them away from the London everyone knew. It had nothing to do with The Tower Bridge or even less Piccadilly Circus, there.

Abdicating before the exhilaration of her feelings, Karen grabbed Will's hand and speeded up the pace of their steps. She was euphoric now, showing him every single window store, every single deli with a feverish flame in her eyes.

Because it had nothing to do with The Upper East Side, with the coldness of luxury boutiques and the hypocrisy of high society, she felt fine there. Surprisingly enough perhaps but it was still true.

"You honestly own a sari?"

Her confession made him laugh as he succumbed little by little to the charms of the London rain over Whitechapel. And they couldn't stop laughing now, with the innocence that only children have; the ones they had had to lose at some point in their life. Under a spell, it seemed to have come back to them.

But very soon the rain won intensity and they ran to a bridge where the subway was passing above. The light of the pale sun was piercing through the tracks, drawing odd paths on the asphalt as the rain drops were hitting the metal with a peculiar musicality.

She was soaked wet but she didn't care at all. The water was sliding down along her spine, coming to die in her lower back and her cheeks were just like ice.

She looked up at him, smiled.

"I want you to make love to me, Will."

Their little bubble exploded under her honesty as he turned pale and frowned.

"Excuse me?"

"I want you to make love to me. You are supposed to accompany me, to stay by my side. This is why my husband pays you for."

"But I don't think he actually includes this kind of activity! Besides, I mean… You aren't serious, are you?"

But she was taken away by her boldness and nothing mattered anymore. She grabbed his hands in hers and held them tight as she plunged her gaze in his.

"I want you to make love to me, Will. Now… You told me I could confess my feelings to you when I feel ready and I am now."

"I can't. Come on, we both know I can't. I'm sorry, Karen. I just…"

"I know you want to. I read it in your notebook."

She lost hold of his hands. She lost hold of him as he backed in retreat and disappeared in the street.


	5. Bathroom Talk

People used to say that she was impulsive. She let the words come out no mattered what they meant, how they could hurt sometimes. This peculiar behavior emphasized a sentiment of self-confidence and all of a sudden she was considered as Machiavellian.

It wasn't always true, though. When it came to men Karen backed in retreat and hid behind a wall of shyness, waiting for nothing but the object of her interest to make the first move in order to release the tension that had grown in her body.

She didn't dare to flirt with men if they hadn't previously shown the slightest bit of desire. She simply lacked courage in the end and chose an odd sort of stability instead. It did work that way and the truth was that it hurt a lot less.

But for whatever reason she had changed the rules of the game for once and there she was now, facing the damage of her sudden, unexpected boldness.

She only allowed herself to breathe again as she closed the door of her suite behind her and any eventuality of crossing Will in the corridor got discarded. She had let him go away in the street, never tried to catch him up back or anything. She had remained still for what had looked like eternal minutes then swallowed hard before turning on her heels and hailing the first cab she had seen.

She felt bad, remorseful and hurt by her own arrogance. Her fantasies had come up from nowhere when it should have been all very well studied and she had ruined the opportunity she had been counting as soon as he had accepted to accompany her to London.

She wanted to sleep with Will. She had always wanted to but her cowardice had been enough until now to slow down any attempt. She didn't mind about the facts _ her marriage, his homosexuality _ it just went beyond that and she couldn't help it. Was it a whim? She wouldn't have been able to say though as the plane had taken off on the tarmac of JFK, it seemed to have settled down what looked like fate.

Now she was regretting her brand new impulsivity.

She took her stiletto off and headed to the bathroom. The urge to call Stanley invaded her but she pushed it away almost immediately. It would have made things worse, trying to hide her guilt like that behind a whole series of lies, false affection towards the man she had married. She decided to take a bath instead. With some chance it would calm down her constant shaking and stop the thousand wonders that were haunting her mind.

She plunged in the hot water, closed her eyes and leaned her head backwards against the marble. The scent of vanilla was embracing the room through a reassuring steam.

"You read my notebook, didn't you?"

A scream escaped from her mouth, water getting splashed all over as she sat up in the tub and turned around. Will was standing on the doorframe, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He didn't really look mad, rather uncomfortable and confused.

"Since when do you have fantasies about me?"

"You didn't answer my question."

His tone was firm and for a few seconds Karen didn't know how to react, almost afraid of his next move; the words he would add.

"How did you enter the suite?"

"You didn't lock the door properly."

Will sighed and made a step in the bathroom then raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Nobody said that all our fantasies had to come true, Karen."

She swallowed hard as he kneeled down next to the tub. In an odd instinct of shyness, she pushed even more bubble soap towards her chest yet enough covered by the white foam though.

"But I want it to happen. I want to sleep with you."

The shaking tone of her voice resounded loud in the bathroom. She tried to hide it behind a smile but its brightness only found a reflection in a lame imitation of self-confidence. She was scared to death.

"Isn't life too short to keep our dreams away?"

Her question made him smile but he also shook his head, as if resigned somehow.

"There are like a thousand reasons we shouldn't even be thinking about that."

"Who cares?"

"Grace, Jack, Stanley…"

The name of her husband caused a bitter laugh to slide on her lips and hit the air harshly. Disabuse, she frowned and clenched her fists.

"I could have sex with someone else just in front of his eyes that he wouldn't care less."

"Karen…"

"It's true! This is not what our marriage is about. We are just a sort of failed utopia."

The strong pain in her throat rushed to her eyes and she burst into cries, uncontrollably. Will's arms wrapped up her frame as she let go against him.

"I am not asking you to fall in love with me, Will. I just want you, once. Why do you keep on turning me down like that?"

Her sobs were loud but she didn't mind anymore. She broke the embrace and looked at him straight in the eyes. It was her last chance or so, she knew it. And yet she couldn't accept the fact he kept on refusing to spend the night with her.

It didn't have to do with her integrity anymore. It went above, like a painful need boiling in her veins.

"We don't sleep with people just because we feel lonely. You know it."

She nonetheless leaned over to capture his lips in a kiss.


	6. The Effect of a Murmur

The bottle never remained cold against the palm of her hand. Under the contact with her skin, it always warmed up and forgot to be harsh as it seemed to sweeten dangerously. So she kept on drinking, over and over. The burning sensation very soon disappeared and the world began to fade away suspending in the air the bitterness of her regrets.

She woke up but kept her eyes closed and rolled on her side in bed. Her ribs hit a firm material and everything came back to her mind slowly.

He had broken the kiss, stood up and left. Alone she had observed the hours passing by, emptying a bottle of vodka that was now lying by her side.

She opened her eyes and stared at her peculiar companion. This was a scene she had had to face more than once but as the years were passing by, it turned out more complicated every time. She didn't like the image it sent back. It left her disarmed, and bare.

Her hand approached the nightstand a bit haphazardly. She grabbed a pack of cigarettes and lit one. Her brain was all blurry, lost in a fog of alcohol and wonders. It wasn't a hangover _ she had noticed how the body didn't assimilate any when she absorbed a high quantity of drink _ but the sharpness of the hours after was worse and it made her heart pound even louder.

Someone knocked on the door. She moaned.

The smoke of her cigarette invaded her lungs as he appeared on the frame of the bedroom area. He was wearing jeans, a white shirt; The London Times in hand.

"Am I interrupting anything?"

"No, not really…"

She leaned up on her elbow but accidentally pushed the bottle of vodka that fell down on the carpeted floor in a stifled sound. She looked down at the sheets, avoiding his gaze and the way he was probably staring at her with reproach if not disappointment in the eyes. She hated when he did that, acting like mister right when he was as bad as the other ones.

"Why do you drink so much?"

She couldn't help rolling her eyes, sighing loudly like a teenager who would have to face the reprimands of her parents. The truth was that she felt stupid, now.

"It helps me to cope with some personal defeats."

There wasn't any subtlety in her comment. The message was clear, low. She regretted it immediately but would have never apologized for it. She shrugged instead and finally locked her eyes with his.

"Why do you care about it anyway Wilma?"

In a gesture of provocation she sat up in bed and grabbed another bottle resting on the nightstand. She opened it, took a sip.

"I don't want to find you one day on the floor and realize that you have passed out."

The concern in his voice slowed down her ridiculous, pushy behavior. She got up, standing firmly on her feet and headed to an armchair where she had previously abandoned a cashmere cardigan. As Will cleared his voice and looked away she realized that she was half-naked, only wearing a t-shirt that barely covered her thong. It made her blush but she pretended not to notice and quickly put on the long cardigan.

"Anyway what can I do for you? I suppose you didn't stop by just to tell me how my drinking habits were bad."

"No, I wanted to see if you were awake since the lunch for The Doves of London starts within two hours now."

"Oh… Thank you, then. I will be ready on time. Don't be worried, honey."

She turned around and headed to the bathroom but gasped as she felt his hand on her wrist. She stopped, faced him.

"Karen… It's not that…"

"No, not now… Please, I think I have drunk enough for the moment. Let me breathe for a little while. I need it."

Burying her tears under a thousand sighs resulted exhausting but she didn't cry, didn't let go at any moment and two hours later she met Will in the lobby of the palace. He was wearing a black tuxedo, an elegant one, as she had opted for deep red, ankle-length dress with matching rubies to her ears.

But she didn't feel like smiling, even less enjoying his presence by her side and the fact all the gazes would be turned towards her for the rest of the day. She would have wanted nothing but to disappear from the surface of Earth and be forgotten, be left alone with her ridiculous integrity and the terrible sentiment to have kept on failing.

"The reception is held at the Claridge's."

The door of their limousine got closed, adding a harsh note to her almost inaudible comment. The traffic wasn't dense and only a few minutes separated both hotels but they remained quiet all along, staring out of their respective windows; trying to ignore the tension growing and the bitterness of some plans that hadn't turned out so right.

The luxurious car finally stopped and as Will's door got opened, he reached for her hand pressing it tight against his. She looked at him, a bit perplexed before his gesture.

It troubled him and almost let go of his hold on her but she shook her head, managed a pale smile.

"Even if we both know that it isn't true, let just pretend that today I am yours."

They stepped out of the car and his hand slid on her lower back as they walked in the palace. They entered the main lounge and got lost in the brouhaha going on.

"I don't want to pretend. Be mine."

His breath on her ear sent a chill down her spine but taken aback by the comment, she turned her face around and stared at him with confusion. She would have never imagined that an unexpected murmur could get such effect and break everything into pieces again.


	7. Compromise over the Night

"Why did you say that? Why did you say that you finally wanted me?"

A red light appeared in the night, piercing through the rain drops like colored bubble soap. The cab stopped and she looked down at her lap. Their promiscuity was awkward, strangely cold after the effervescence of the last hours; the party and the hundred guests.

She hadn't had a chance to face him after what he had said until they had stepped into the car and the door had got closed behind. And there she was, disarmed and confused.

"I don't know."

"You are driving me insane…"

Her despair vanished in a sigh and she closed her eyes, leaned her head backwards to prevent the tears from falling down her face. Could he just not see how fragile she was in the end? How she was just appearances and broken dreams.

The light turned green and so the car went away through an empty street.

"What will happen then? What will happen if we spend the night together?"

His question troubled her and she swept it away with a gesture of the hand. She swallowed hard, took a deep breath.

"I am just asking you a night."

"Am I the first one?"

Her hazel eyes slowly slid towards him. She shook her head, clenched her fists and shrugged intending a lame smile.

"Alright…"

Someone opened the door of the car. It made her jump and as she turned her head around realized that they had arrived to the Ritz. Her heart pounding loud, she stepped out of the cab and walked inside the palace.

They remained quiet and distant as the elevator went up to their floor. With shaking hands, she grabbed her pass, opened the door of her suite and let him enter.

"It sounds weird."

Her nervous laugh hit the air as she took off her coat and abandoned her bag on the floor. A small lamp had been turned on near by the bed, spreading a warm light; an intimate one. Balancing on her feet, she shrugged and cleared her voice.

"Do you want to have a drink?"

But he made a few steps until being only a couple of inches away from her. His hands came to rest on her waist, slid on it and as he tightened his hold on her, they kissed.

His lips were soft and his gestures attentive but it resulted enough to send a shiver down a spine and she deepened the kiss hungrily. She didn't want to lose time, as if they couldn't afford it anyway. So her hands began to caress his chest and very soon found the zipper of his pants.

She took them off, brushing his buttocks with her fingertips and unbuttoned his shirt before discarding it. It was going fast, like a reflection of her numerous heartbeats but they simply couldn't stop now or the spell would be broken and the rest damaged forever.

Her dress slid down along her curves and landed in a soft murmur on the floor. She stepped out of her shoes, kneeled down on the bed while her tongue was now exploring the depths of his neck.

Images of the erotic dream she had had a few days ago rushed back to her mind as he lay on top of her and she sighed in his mouth, squeezing his waist with her legs. As his hands were caressing her thighs, she pushed him closer and played with his hair; her tongue sliding on his with a mischievous delight.

Curiously enough the awkwardness of the beginning had vanished with quietness, substituted by a frustration hold for too long. She had always wanted him, not like a prey or a whim but a need to keep on living. Her lovers brought her the indispensable energy to bare her marriage with Stanley, his incessant cheating and their disgusting appearances of some perfect couple who couldn't but be looked at with envy.

She closed her eyes as his lips found her hips and he slowly took off her garter-belts replacing every single inch of skin by a kiss. She spread her legs, arched her back suggestively and pushed his head closer to her inner thighs as his fingers reached her thong to take it off.

The silence of the room seemed to get rocked by an ode of sensuality emanating from their sighs, their continuous caresses and the deep kisses of their intertwined tongues that elicited shivers driving them crazy.

"Do you have…"

His breath was hot on her lips and as she passed her tongue on his, she shook her head; her words getting lost in his mouth

"I don't need one."

She had never imagined that it would happen like that. When she had known that he would come to London with her, she had settled down a couple of wishes over him; how it would be the right time to finally get what she wanted from him. But her fantasies had never really reached such a degree and the scene she had been playing in her head all along had had a whole different perspective.

It wasn't better or worse, just different; bare, almost too realistic perhaps.

Through a long kiss they became one, shivering; sighing quietly in each other's mouth. She pressed his body against her as if she were about to lose him, as if he would leave and never come back, and before the effusion of sensations brought by the sudden pleasure, she bit her lower lip to hold back her tears.

That was the problem with her. Karen Walker never respected any of her promises. She was in constant need, asking for more, over and over.

And as they rolled on their side, carried on by their thrusts, she knew it would have to last more than a mere night.


	8. Only Three Days Left

Her lips made contact with his chest, going up through a trail of light kisses. The touch made him laugh. She smiled, reached his mouth and straddled him. Immediately she looked for his eyes and started moving her hips as her fingers got intertwined with his.

His breath slid on her neck, eliciting chills down her spine. The feather sensation increased her arousing and she moaned against his lips, tightened her grip on him. She responded to his subtle pelvis movement by speeding up the pace of her thrusts and swallowed hard as his fingertips brushed her breasts, her buttocks.

A wave of warmth began to boil in her lower stomach. She leaned over, captured his moist lips in a deep kiss and locked her eyes with his as her orgasm hit her with strength and intensity. Taking her aback, he reached his climax exactly at the same time, in a rare if not almost impossible synchronization. It had never happened to her before, with any of her lovers. And as she collapsed on his chest _ trying to catch back her breath _ she closed her eyes and tried not to focalize on their improbable harmony.

They remained still for a moment, their respective chests moving up and down and as his hand went up through her hair in a sweet caress, she leaned up on her elbow to grab her sunglasses resting on the nightstand. She put them on, rolled on her side and stretched her arms and legs in bed as a sigh of satisfaction escaped her lips.

"Are you allergic to daylight?"

She looked at him through her sunglasses and smiled with serenity.

"We had sex all night long. My eyes sore and are probably all puffy now. "

And all of a sudden something hit her mind, as if the spell hadn't broken into pieces but exploded without any warning. Slowly, she turned her face around and stared at Will, his bare chest that the sheets weren't covering that much.

The words had come out of her mouth just like that, not by accident but following a bare logic. They had hit the air with harshness, regretfully.

"We had sex…"

Will probably heard the panic in her voice because he rolled on his side immediately and wrapped an arm around her waist, kissed her shoulder blade as reassuringly as he could. She swallowed hard, frowned.

"Diane wasn't the only one, am I wrong?"

The question didn't really offend him but he still scoffed, got tensed somehow. She was about to apologize for her curiosity when he cleared his voice, shaking his head.

"I did have a few women."

"And if I had to write down the list of my lovers it wouldn't be that long, actually."

Her confession troubled him and an odd silence spread above their heads. She smiled, trying to hide her discomfort that was slowly vanishing in shame but within a second he took her in his arms to hold her tight; locking his eyes with hers.

"We have three days left here. Let's just put the rest into parenthesis, in the meantime. I want to be with you now. I want to kiss you, to make love to you…"

A chill ran down her spine and she felt the heat rush up to her cheeks but her boldness pushed her to caress his ankle with her foot. Her inner thigh brushed his leg and in a fluid movement she squeezed his waist.

She nodded, unable to say the slightest thing.

"Would you like to go out for a walk?"

"I'd rather spend the whole day in bed. There's no point to go out when there's no rain."

They made love one more time before finally falling asleep in each other's arms. When she woke up a few hours later, Karen observed the man lying by her side. There was a whirl of emotions sweeping away the usual quietness of her mind but as the pressure began to weigh too much, she slowly got up and headed to the bathroom to have a bath.

She didn't even feel bad. As a matter of fact, she was already missing the heat of his touch, the way his hands seemed to match hers with an odd perfection.

She plunged her head under the water, closed her eyes and listened to her heart pounding loud in her chest. The world was so silent there, so peaceful. As the air began to seriously miss in her lungs, she hurried to the surface and smiled at him. He was standing on the doorframe, wearing his boxers.

Leaning her elbow on the edge of the tub, she pressed her head against the palm of her hand then motioned him to approach. He kneeled down, as if he had done a few days before. Her fingers slid on his nape and she kissed him deeply.

They never broke their embrace. He simply took off his underwear and joined her in the bath tub as their caresses became more intense.

Something had happened the night before as they had undressed and laid in bed. It seemed that a veil of frustration had flown away, releasing thus a whole series of needs, vital desires to be touched, kissed and embraced by the other.

Their union brought an odd balance to the scene.

She held her breath as he entered her, smiled against his cheek and passed a hand through his hair. Her legs squeezed his waist but she closed her eyes to forget all the rest.

There were just three days left, only three.

And then…

"Oh, Kare…"

She bit her lower lip and restrained a moan. Even the calling of her name sounded sexy all of a sudden.


	9. Flying Over Time

She heard the door get closed somewhere in the background and it made her smile, almost immediately; just like that. Her hands began to shake in anticipation but she tried to remain concentrated on the nail varnish she had been applying to her toes. His steps approached. Unable to hold it any longer, she looked up and tended her arms as he arrived in the bedroom section of the suite.

"I have missed you."

He planted a soft kiss on her lips and laughed at her remark then abandoned his travel bag on the floor; sat down on the mattress.

"I was gone for ten minutes."

"You could have been gone for five seconds that it would have been the same to me."

Her cheeks burnt under her blushing but she held his gaze and kept on smiling, unsure of who was the most surprised by her behavior. She had never been like that before, never assumed loudly her needs and desires. The men who had shared her life had constantly complained about her lack of self-confidence, her quietness that ended up blinding them and then they fell into a confusion that led to failure.

Perhaps because they had no future together, she allowed herself to be different with Will and it resulted in an odd, unexpected series of sweet confessions.

"So… What would you like to do today? Go out or stay in bed just like yesterday."

Her hand caressed his thigh, tracing invisible circles on it until her fingers got intertwined with his and she leaned over to kiss him back.

They always teased each other with feather kisses _ very light ones _ that little by little led to deeper ones. They always took their time when they didn't have any, didn't rush into things when maybe they should have because the countdown of the days left had begun and once they were back to Manhattan, it would be over.

"Let's go to Regent's Park. This is my favorite one, because of the roses."

"They aren't in blossom yet."

"But they still are there, even if we can't see them."

Once they locked the door of the suite behind them, she grabbed his hand and never let go of it. Palm against palm their skin seemed to have melted in a unique one and the warmth of his body nourished hers of his heartbeats, and vice-versa. It was a disturbing sensation since their relation would die in the nothingness of a mere fling within the next forty-eight hours but it went beyond them and all they could do was to ignore the strange effect.

They looked like an old couple; one of those over which time had no power whatsoever and they would do just fine.

"You haven't drunk that much, lately."

They had just passed the gates of the park and were quietly walking through one of the small paths when Will made the remark. Under other circumstances, she would have taken it pretty bad, would have scoffed if not thrown a fit and made a scene. But for a reason she ignored, Karen remained calm and simply nodded.

"I don't need to empty glasses and bottles of pills when there is nothing to escape."

"Let's talk about something else."

"Why, does it make you uncomfortable? I have never said that I was perfect. Never seriously, that is. For years I have wanted nothing but to be different and yet I have finally realized that it would never happen because I was just like the other ones. We all have insecurities, dreams and regrets. It is just how it is, Will. We can't avoid that."

His hand came to rest on her stomach. The gesture stopped them and she closed her eyes as his kiss made contact with the top of her head. She swallowed hard.

"How come things have changed between us with so little time?"

Her question almost sounded rhetorical but yet none of them owned the answer to her wonders. Something was happening _ something unreachable _ and it made it all speed up its pace as if they had born the day before and would die the next morning. It was an exhausting feeling, such a peculiar one that it seemed an invisible presence actually decided upon them, for their slightest gestures.

"I like the way you are right now. You seem so calm, almost relieved somehow. This is the Karen I love having by my side."

"Let's have coffee or something at the little café near the Shakespeare area. The view is perfect from there."

He followed her and they sat at a table inside a small shop that overlooked an artificial pond. A few couples were there, chatting softly as a family of four was having a snack on the other side of the room. The brown plastic cup of coffee was warming up her hands, getting lost in her smile and she couldn't help staring into his eyes.

"I am fine. I have never been so fine."

Karen tended her hand towards him and he pressed it softly, sweetly.

As much as they would leave at some point and the years would fly away, she knew that she would always keep in mind this moment as one of the most logical ones of her life when everything had seemed so far, so insignificant before the serenity that being alone with Will had brought to her heart if only for ten minutes.

And whenever she felt down, she would only have to think about this moment to find the energy to go on.

They came back to the hotel a couple of hours later, made love under the pale light of the flames dancing in the fireplace. It sounded so perfect that it was almost normal there were now barely two days left.


	10. Different Shades

She had never liked the day previous to a travel. There was something lame about it as if all of a sudden while packing, she was put halfway between her daily routine and the unknown of what had to come and she felt disarmed before it, extremely fragile.

She crossed her arms on her chest and swallowed hard as the zipping of his travel bag pierced the silence with a harsh coldness. She looked down at the bed and bit the inside of her mouth.

"Have you already packed?"

She shook her head but remained quiet and pouted instead of using words. Anyway she wouldn't have been able to speak, even if she had wanted to. The boiling pain she had been resenting since the first hours of the morning would have rushed to her lips and she would have broken into tears, stupidly enough.

"Do you want me to help you?"

Ignoring his offer, she lie down on the bed and stared at the ceiling; hand on her stomach. They shouldn't have been talking about that, shouldn't have almost turned the page yet when there were still a few hours left. She wanted to feel his arms around her one more time, plunge her face in his neck then steal his breath through a series of long kisses because when she was back to New York, she would feel lonely again and have nothing left but the faded memories of a furtive affair.

"Lay down next to me, please."

Her order sounded more like a pleading request _ a desperate need _ than a real demonstration of authority over him. He nonetheless obeyed and as she grabbed his hand, she rolled on her side and rested her head against his arm.

"I am tired."

"Do you want to take a nap?"

She shook her head, a pale smile of regrets lighting up her features then closed her eyes.

"No, I am tired of this life. I am tired of pretending, of using all these lies when I could easily go for honesty instead."

"And what would you say, then?"

"I would recognize my mistakes, fill for a divorce and leave Stanley. I would cut down on my drinking and openly assume the facts that I do have feelings. Well you know. This sort of things…"

"But you won't."

"I won't, indeed, but not because I lack courage or anything. It is just that even though it is lame, I still think it might be the way it was supposed to be."

She leaned up on her elbow and looked into his eyes. He wasn't smiling, neither was she and it took a lot of strength for her not to burst into tears.

"I am going to miss you, Will."

Her fingertips brushed his lips, sweeping away the words he might have wanted to say. They kissed, softly. His hands slid on her waist and she followed his implicit request, passing on top of him in a fluid movement. As their embrace deepened and their breaths shortened, images of the past week began to twirl around in her head. It had gone too fast, as usual maybe but there were still so many things she would have wanted to share with him.

It went beyond this bed, her suite and the pleasure emanating from their caresses. Her affection for London seemed to find logic in her fling with Will, a sort of mutual resonance that emphasized then her slightest feeling.

And that was where the difference lay. She felt alive. For the very first time she had managed to find the balance between her insecurities and her deepest needs.

And it was all thanks to him.

But instead of making love they left the Ritz and walked to Hyde Park. The sky was full of heavy gray clouds as the chilling air made the brown leaves of the trees spin around in the air, like following an ultimate ballet before vanishing in the eternity of their death.

The fall was taking everything away.

As they cut through the grass, the first rain drops began to fall and very soon they found themselves trapped under the rain pour. The park had been deserted, making them look lost among the green immensity. They ran towards a weeping-willow, its leaves protecting them from the rain. They could barely see the rest of the park from their little secret place, only listen to the drops sliding along the branches in a soft melody.

She turned around and kissed him, taking him by surprise. Her hands slid up his neck and as her tongue found his, he pushed her against the trunk caressing her thighs suggestively.

She let him do, all along; barely caring about the fact that they could have got caught up at any moment.

His fingertips brushed her hips, took off her thong eliciting thus a smile from her; a soft moan that came to die in his mouth. She squeezed his waist with her legs and within a second they became one; their thrusts following the melodious rain falling on the other side of the curtain of leaves.

She had never made love in a public place, blushed every time the idea had been suggested. Why would it be qualified of intimate if people wanted to be seen? It didn't sound appropriate, a sort of perversity she didn't share with them.

But Will's heat in her and the softness of his kisses on her neck brought a brand new perspective to what she had considered as definite opinions, life principles. The place added a peculiar shade to their intimacy and she loved it.

The rain calmed down eventually and as they left behind the weeping-willow, hand in hand, Will planted a kiss on the top of her head.

"We will come back next year."

She nodded quietly; no mattered she knew as much as him that it wasn't true. And they wouldn't, unfortunately.


	11. An EightHour Separation

There wasn't any cloud. The sky was blue and the sun so bright it made you squint. In a word it was a perfect day for everyone but her. She just found it vulgar.

The door of the limousine got slammed and she looked down at her lap, depressed. The harshness of Manhattan was killing the sweetness of her past week and very soon London would be a vague memory.

Politely enough Will gave her address first to the driver and they finally left the airport behind, only to get stuck in the dense, annoying traffic of New York. The flight hadn't been delayed or cancelled. They had taken off in the rain and the gray sky of London, closing a page over the awkwardness of a few shared days.

The brutal return to reality had hit her then, the interminable line at the customs and the oppressing sentiment left by their jetlag. She would have wanted nothing but to burst into cries, grab his wrist and take the first flight back to Europe.

Why wasn't her life similar to all those old movies she kept on watching over and over? It wasn't fair.

A long sigh slid on her lips as she bent over to take out of the mini-bar a bottle of vodka. She felt exhausted and sad which resulted in a deep, cold silence when there were so many things they should have been speaking about.

She poured some alcohol in a glass, stared at him. Obviously he wasn't talkative either for once. It wasn't reassuring that much and something broke all of a sudden in her heart. She swallowed hard.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm tired."

The vodka embraced her throat, burnt her stomach. She tightened her grip on the glass and relaxed on the leather seat. Her body was asking for its daily dose of nicotine making her heart beat faster and her impatience grow almost absurdly. She had barely lit a cigarette in London, barely had a drink.

They finally made it to Madison Avenue and as the limousine stopped in front of her building _ her doorman opening the door of the car for her _ she stepped out reluctantly, waving vaguely at Will a sort of goodbye.

Her eyes began to water so she hurriedly put on her sunglasses and stared blankly how the doorman grabbed her travel bags, carrying them inside the building. She made a few steps on the sidewalk then turned around to look at the limousine.

The driver slammed the passenger door and went back to his own seat but as the car was about to leave, she unexpectedly ran to it and knocked hardly on the window.

"Wait!"

Completely unaware of the passers-by looking at her with perplexity, Karen frowned and clenched her fists waiting for a reaction inside the limousine. The door opened and Will poked his head out. He looked confused.

"Have you forgotten something?"

Her mouth was dry and her legs weak. She could have passed out in the middle of the street, pressed by the urge of an uncontrollable panic.

"Can I stay with you today? I don't want… I'm not ready to go back there. Besides Stanley isn't here and I don't feel like having a lonely day all by myself."

She gave indications to the doorman and this is how she sat back next to him in the car, holding his hand tightly; shaking as if she had been about to lose him.

The apartment of Riverside Drive was quiet and looked lifeless as they stepped in, hand in hand. Jack wasn't in town for a couple of days and Grace was at work. She had left a message in the mailbox, mentioning she would come back late because of some appointment with a new client.

Dropping his travel bag by the door, Will headed to the kitchen; opened the fridge.

"Do you want to drink something?"

Their connection was weird, lame somehow. As much as she tried, Karen didn't manage to find the balance that had brought so many things in London as if New York had already crashed her furtive well-being.

She shook her head and turned around, pointing out his bedroom.

"I think I will have a shower first if you don't mind. Even flying first class doesn't change anything to an eight-hour journey to me."

She had used this bathroom a lot of times before _ more than she could actually count _ but as she passed the door, it looked different. Everything looked different, not necessarily in a bad way but she couldn't find back any reference.

She took off her stilettos and unzipped her skirt; let it slid on the floor. She unbuttoned her blouse and ran the water, stepping under it with a barely contained pleasure. The drops were massaging her face, her tensed muscles. She closed her eyes and smiled as she heard him undress a few steps away. She tended her hand, shivered as his fingers made contact with hers and when he found himself in front of her, she embraced him in a quiet hug.

They washed each other, planting kisses on bare shoulders; the delicate bones of the neck. After a while they stepped out of the shower, dried themselves and headed to his bed.

They had made love all night in London but barely had any contact during the flight. The heat of his body against hers was intense, almost burning.

"I have missed you."

She wasn't being dramatic, wasn't exaggerating either. Breathing shortly under his thrusts, Karen was just being honest and yet completely lost because if an eight-hour separation was too much, how was she supposed to deal with the fact their so-called fling was technically over?

They spent the rest of the day in bed, her naked body covered by an old cashmere sweater of his; a gray one.

They had tea. They smiled, cuddled, laughed, talked but avoided meticulously the slightest remark over their dead-end relationship.

And when Grace arrived in the evening, they put everything aside and got back to their original roles: Karen and Will.


	12. Silent Feelings Break a Heart

Some days seemed easier than others, like when she could see him if only for an hour; hold his hand and brush his lips. She didn't need more in the end, just a simple contact, skin-to-skin and she found the strength to go on.

Lies came along with a troubling easiness, and this lack of remorse that should have made them feel guilty. They didn't care about the rest when they were together. The world faded away and they got lost in each other's gaze, the minutes flying by quietly.

"I have met someone."

She had been supposed to ask him for some wine, her glass being empty. Not that she was particularly thirsty but the silence reigning over made her feel extremely uncomfortable and she needed an occupation throughout the whole diner.

"Well, as a matter of fact I have known him for quite a while but… Things changed and we got closer, a lot closer."

She realized how scared she was of his reaction when her heart began to beat faster. Why did he remain still and quiet? Instinctively her eyes looked down at the knife he was still holding. She swallowed hard; bit the inside of her mouth.

"Are you mad at me? Please Stanley, say something."

With a disturbing meticulousness, he put down his fork and raised a disabused eyebrow before finally shrugging.

"I don't see why I would impose you any clause of exclusivity when I do have mistresses."

The sharp remark hit her violently, as much as he hadn't really meant to. His infidelity had always been obvious but they hadn't talked about it, hadn't mentioned anything and it was odd _ painful _ to get the confirmation of his acts without any warning.

"I don't know what to say."

The scene sounded completely surreal, destabilizing. How could he be so calm, not offended the slightest bit when she was, sort of betrayed by his honesty?

"Do you want to get a divorce? I mean… Is it so serious that you want to live with him, to marry him?"

She couldn't help laughing, even though bitterly, at the suggestion then shook her head, certain of her decision for the very first time since the beginning of their odd conversation.

"I don't have this kind of plans in head, or at least not now. No, this is just ridiculous. He is not this sort of man, not at all."

"Then I guess we can pass to another subject now. He can come over if you want to, I don't mind. Just be discreet _ for the kids and for the gossip _ that's all I am asking for."

Strangely enough his lack of concern hurt a lot more than if he had thrown a fit, made a huge scene and stormed out of the dining-room slamming the oak doors behind. She didn't feel relieved at all, on the contrary.

There was something oppressive on her, a sensation of dirtiness covering her whole body.

"Discreet just as you are? Is it what you mean?"

"Karen, you know that I don't like this kind of insinuations. Don't ruin our evening, please. I am being comprehensive with you, what else do you want?"

"Do you want to know who he is?"

Stanley sighed in a dramatic effect supposed to emphasize his exasperation. Her insistence was getting on his nerves but as much as she knew that it would be better for everyone if she just stopped now, the words kept on coming out, incisive and sharp; remorseful.

"I don't mind, Karen. He could be married with three kids that it wouldn't change anything. You are old enough to take your own decisions and fully assume them. Like I would ever tell you about my conquests…"

She didn't need to. Obviously his numerous secretaries had been a lot more than that to him, as well as assistants and international, professional partners during his business trips. They were all young, and so pretty.

"I think I'm done. I'm not hungry anymore so if you'll excuse me…"

She put her napkin back on the table in a nonchalant gesture and cleared her voice a bit pointlessly; stood up.

"Oh Karen… You knew that I wouldn't get offended by the news. So what were you expecting from me? Did you want me to make a big scene of something I don't care at all about? It doesn't make sense."

She stopped halfway and turned around to face him. She was angry, and sad; felt terribly lonely all of a sudden.

"You know, I might not be in love with you _ might never have been in love with you _ but still… I care about you, a lot. Your current indifference towards my infidelity proves the exact opposite and you don't mind. You don't mind at all about me. And... This is hurtful, Stanley."

She didn't see him in the morning. When she woke up, he had already left for work, maybe not even spent the night at the mansion. How could she have known since they had always had separate bedrooms?

She was supposed to meet Will at 6pm, at some bar in The Village. She would tell him everything, how her own husband didn't care not even the slightest bit; how it hurt to fall into the indifference of the one she had married.

But it resulted that she might not have been the only one in pain in this story because the phone rang at 4pm at Grace's office. She took the call, leafing absent-mindedly through some fashion magazine.

The Mount Sinai Hospital was calling. Stanley had just been admitted; he had suffered from a heart attack.

And in spite of the medical staff, he passed away in the evening; taken away by a broken heart and a couple of silent feelings.


	13. Closure of the Past

She abandoned her stilettos in the corridor and sighed of relief as her feet made contact with the floor. She closed her eyes, leaned her head backwards. Her neck was painful, her muscles tensed and a latent headache was pressing against her temples. She needed a rest now, after the macabre effervescence of the past few days. People hadn't stopped coming and going; delivering flowers, giving her their sympathy.

She had learned to smile, almost apologetically and use a condescending tone of voice to match with the scene.

She was about to enter the library when she suspended her movement and cast a glance at the very next door on her left. She opened it, for the first time without knocking before and all of a sudden the smell of Stanley's cigars went to her head bewitchingly.

It was odd how we could forget so easily, even about someone we had spent the last decade living with. Within three days she had swept away from her mind his affection for Cuban tobacco and the glass of Scotch he always had in the evening when coming back home after a full day of work.

She remembered his eyes though, as well as his smile; and his lies.

"Are you alright?"

Her hand brushed the edge of the imposing oak desk. She nodded, looking down at a few pencils abandoned next to a pile of papers. Stanley had been buried a few hours earlier but his presence was still there, strong enough, and yet there were so many things left to do.

"I am going to need your help to go through all those papers and contracts, and… It seems a lot to me right now."

Abandoning the contemplation of the desk, she went to sit on the leather armchair. She took a deep breath, looked up at Will but didn't say anything.

The death of Stanley had broken their secret routine, turning its sweetness into a shameful bitterness and they had barely made contact since then; never mentioning their affair. It wasn't the right time to do so and none of them felt like to, anyway. Guilt hadn't invaded their mind and even though they both knew about the failure of Karen's marriage, they seemed to remain distant by a pure act of politeness; a sort of politically correct that went beyond their control, something to do with their conscious, perhaps.

"As your attorney, I am in charge of this kind of things. Don't be worried and just focalize on what seems the most important to you."

"Like this house…"

"You want to put it on sale?"

"It was supposed to be our place, to me and Stanley, but since he isn't here anymore… I don't know. It just doesn't feel right if I stay."

"Take your time, though. There is no rush."

She nodded quietly, raising her eyebrows and giving him a pale smile.

Absent-mindedly she tended her arm to grab a pen but her elbow made contact with a pile of envelopes that fell down all over the desk.

"Damn!"

She bit her lower lip and tried to hide her blushing looking down intently at the papers scattered in front of her. With nervous hands she picked them up _ forming back a pile _ until the only one with a name on it caught her attention.

_For Karen_

It was Stanley's handwriting. She would have recognized it from a thousand different ones. He had chosen a blue navy ink when he used to go for black most of the times. Confused, she looked up at Will and frowned; cleared her voice.

"What is it?"

"I don't know… It's an envelope with my name on it."

Pushed by his curiosity Will finally approached her and grabbed the rectangular, white sheet of paper.

"There is a letter in it. You should read it."

"But what if it is not for me?"

"As long as I know, you were the only Karen Stanley had in his life; the only one who got most of his fortune too."

A bit reluctantly she accepted the envelope and took the letter out of it, glancing at Will from time to time. She had always hated unexpected situations like this one because she had no hold over them and it made her feel so weak when she had no time or energy for vulnerability of any sort.

She settled further on the armchair, ignored the quick pace of her heartbeats and finally faced the words left by Stanley.

_I never liked arguing with you in the first place. You looked hurt by then. Your features deepened and the flame in your eyes darkened as if I had just hit you straight in the heart. It was a torture whenever I had to face your pain and all those sentiments you didn't dare to say out loud. But you never left me a chance and you kept on pushing me, over and over, as if there was still something to save from us. _

_I don't know when we got it wrong, or why, but we grew apart at some point._

_That doesn't mean I hate you or even less stopped caring about you as you mentioned tonight. I love you, as you love me, but it doesn't include those romantic feelings that define the greatest relationships. We were meant to fail but never accepted the idea. Perhaps if we had to do it all over again we would change a couple of things and then avoid the pain of infidelity. _

_Mine are mere flings, deprived of any kind of real feelings. They just help me to accept the fact you will never be in love with me when yet you represent the perfect woman to my eyes, the one I had the chance to marry. _

_Your confession surprised me tonight, a lot. And it hurt because you took me aback, showing me a side of your personality I had never got to know until now. I know I have lost you this time and you will end up leaving when you feel ready. I can't blame you if you don't want to keep on pretending. It seems that you have found someone you hadn't expected but from the way your eyes were shining as you told me about it, I can say you have feelings for him._

_So don't ruin anything, Karen. Don't let him go because you are afraid of what your engagement could mean. _

_Everything will be alright. You deserve it. But please, let's stop the conflicts. I am too tired for them. And they don't make sense anymore._

_Take care_

_Stan_


	14. The Rain in the Night

There were times in life when it was necessary to turn the page and start a new one. It was all about taking a deep breath and assuming a couple of things; no mattered it was hard, complicated. There was just no choice but to do it.

She buried her face in her hands, closed her eyes then bit her lips in a lame attempt to prevent from crying. She had never liked taking important decisions that had a real hold on her life. Why persisting to go through some changes that could make it all tip over when routine was a lot safer? She might not have been that happy but at least she felt fine and reassured among the lame elements that constituted her existence.

She lacked courage if not self-confidence at all.

"Are you alright?"

Her sobs stopped immediately as she stood up and turned around, taken aback by his presence.

Jack had left an hour earlier and nobody else was supposed to stop by, especially on a Saturday night. Succumbing to a latent sadness, she hadn't bothered to open one of the numerous cardboard boxes that littered the townhouse and had opted for a glass of wine instead, savoring it quietly in her brand new home; alone, sat on the floor as the delivery of the couch had been delayed.

"I thought you were supposed to go to the movies with Grace."

"I changed my mind."

He made a few steps forward, the mere gesture speeding up the pace of her heart. She blushed, surprised and ashamed of her instinctive reaction. It wasn't that she didn't like romanticism but she felt stupid when abdicating to this kind of emotions.

It didn't happen very often either.

"Would you like a drink?"

Realizing her own glass was empty she headed to the countertop of the kitchen area on the back of the large room and poured herself some more wine.

"Is everything alright? You haven't answered."

She tended him a glass but avoided his gaze. A couple of weeks had passed by since Stanley's funeral and even though the mansion hadn't been sold yet, she had insisted to move out as soon as possible. She had found the townhouse by accident while heading to a client's place one day in The Village and a few hours later she was signing the deal, making a huge step in the process of turning the page over the past decade.

But in the meantime nothing had changed with Will and they hadn't had a chance to see what would become of whatever they had started living; if there was something left of it.

"I am fine, thank you."

"Then why were you crying?"

She couldn't help but scoff, not offended but surprised by his question. Nobody had ever dared to allude to her feelings like that. Whenever people found her in what she identified as a moment of weakness, they simply ignored the fact and made it pass unnoticed like obeying a quiet agreement between them and her.

It might have been lame somehow but she had grown accustomed to it.

"I am tired. That's all. I have gone through a lot lately and now that the pressure is vanishing, I am a bit perplexed and… And…"

The words didn't come out. The ideas were bumping in her head, twirling around quickly but she didn't manage to get anything from them. The mere attempt died before reaching her lips and as the seconds passed by, she began to panic.

Frowning, she passed her hand through her hair and looked all around for a way to escape. She wished she had been able to put this moment on pause and walk away, quietly enough so nobody would notice her absence once time would get its hold back on existence. But instead she had to face Will who didn't say a word and stared at her in confusion.

"I am just fine, okay? Now let's talk about something else or just go because anyway it's late and I should go to bed."

"Fine… Good night, then."

She looked how he put down his glass of wine on a cardboard box before turning around and leaving the house. A few seconds flew away but all of a sudden something began to boil in her body and she found herself running to the door.

It was raining, just like in London except that this time the night was swallowing it all in a dark embrace vaguely lit up by the street lights.

"Will, wait!"

He had probably slowed down his pace because he hadn't gone that far, barely made it to the next house. He stopped and turned around, hands in the pockets of his coat. The air was icy for the first time in a very long while as if the winter had finally decided to come up, taking away the fall quietly.

She approached him, unsure of what she was supposed to say or do. Everything was so blurry that the least idea didn't make sense in her head.

"And now what are we supposed to do? Did we put things into parenthesis or actually put an end to what we had never really managed to get away from?"

"Why don't you give it a name?"

"Because I don't know what you want."

"I would like you to answer me about your crying, about all those feelings you keep inside and never dare to assume out loud even when you are with me. I loved the way we were, in London, how you kind of opened to me. This is the part of you I am interested in, when you're not lying or pretending that everything is alright and you're untouchable. Because nobody is and it's okay."

"But I can deal with my own feelings."

"I have never said you couldn't."

"I miss you…"

It slid out of her mouth with the sweetness of relief, hitting the air with an incredible logic that made her smile in spite of her uncertainty towards his own feelings.

She swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

"I love you, Will."


	15. Playing with Life

There was something about smiling against his lips, a sort of satisfaction she couldn't find in any other way. His hands slid on her waist, tightening his grip on her, and all of a sudden she felt alive and cared about; by him. It stirred up an odd sensation in her lower stomach, a boiling wave of warmness that spread over her body until it embraced her heart, making her smile brightly.

Perhaps that was just what love was supposed to be.

She brushed his chest with her hand; going up to his neck, planting kisses all along. His skin was soft under her lips, warm. As her eyes finally found his, she couldn't help but smile, a few inches away from his face.

"Good morning…"

She passed a leg between his as she leaned up on her elbows and kissed his lips softly before plunging her face in his neck.

His arms were reassuring on her back, embracing her with a sweet strength and she almost managed to think that nothing bad could ever happen again.

His lips made contact with her forehead in a light kiss. He took a deep breath, sighed slowly on her neck. She had missed those little details that made a relationship unique, powerful and yet fragile because nobody had a hold over it.

"I love you."

A bit reluctantly she abandoned the heat of his neck and leaned up on her elbows again, flashed him a bright smile then bit her lower lip.

"I love you, I love you, I love you…"

His fingers brushed her face and she felt the heat rush to her cheeks. But she didn't hide anything, on the contrary. Since the night before when she had dared to confess her feelings, a weight had vanished almost instantly from her shoulders and now that she was there, in bed with Will, she just couldn't stop. The words were coming out, over and over.

"Who are you? What have you done to Karen?"

His questions made her scoff, and blush. But she simply laughed in the end and straddled him to plunge her eyes in his with more intensity.

He had kissed her the night before, in the street, when she had told him about her sentiments towards him. They had gone back home and made love until the first hours of the morning had pierced through the windows, caressing their flesh softly.

"I love you."

But this time the lightness of her tone disappeared and her voice sounded surprisingly low. Taken aback, she swallowed hard and felt how a chill ran down her spine as the words hit the air, reaching their full meanings; all the things they would have to face now.

"Perhaps you should leave."

As fluid as her movement had been when she had straddled him, the coldness of her return in bed next to him resounded loud in the room. She was uncomfortable, a sort of sensation flirting with a burning shame on the edge of an unbearable bitterness.

"Have I offended you?"

"No…"

In a nervous gesture she grabbed a sweater and put it on before getting up. It didn't change anything though and to her bitterness substituted a frank panic. Before an astonished Will she began to pace the bedroom furiously, opening chest of drawers and rummaging through piles of clothes pointlessly. Her heart was beating too fast, way too fast.

"Karen, could you please tell me what is happening exactly?"

"Nothing, everything is going fine. I am fine, you are fine, we are fine…"

"Then why are you freaking out like that?"

"I am not freaking out!"

But her scream proved the exact opposite and she stopped her comings and goings; stared at Will. He had remained in bed but looked disarmed and lost, almost in pain.

It made her feel bad and all of a sudden, without any warning, the tears began to well up in her eyes.

"Karen… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."

She felt stupid, standing there in front of him like that; unable to control her reactions. Very slowly he got up, put on his boxers and approached her carefully. As his arms embraced her frame, she let go of her cries against his shoulder.

"Why are you crying?"

He did sound completely disarmed this time and it was all her fault. She was ruining their morning, ruining everything. The spell had broken and she felt like she had just woken up from a way too sweet dream that would never match with the harshness of reality.

"It will never work out. You and I… We don't have a single chance to get something from it. And don't tell me it's not true. We both know how it is, how Jack and Grace are going to react and… And… It is so not a good idea. That's why you should leave now."

"Who said we had to tell them?"

She opened her mouth to reply but suspended the words before them coming out at the last second and plunged her eyes in his instead. As much as she had never cared about lying and holding secrets, it sounded like a case of betraying when it came to the few people she actually considered as her friends.

It was a dangerous game, completely dead-end.

She looked aside to avoid his gaze, sighed loudly.

"I don't want to lose anyone. I don't want to be responsible of the downfall of… Damn, Will! We're talking about the bases of your life and you're okay to put them in danger just like that? How can you dare to… Where do you find the courage?"

With an impressive serenity Will passed his arms around her waist and made her approach him.

"If Grace and Jack are my friends then they will understand at some point how you are important to me, Kare."


	16. Of Weakness and Observation

She hadn't slept properly for a week, haunted by a scene she could predict in its slightest details. And it was scaring. From the gazes to the gossip _ the fake smiles _ she had always known that it would be a torture but yet she had no choice and so, would attend the event with a barely faked anxiety.

It had looked far at the beginning but the days had finally flown away and before she could have said anything, she was walking through the lobby of the palace, nervously clutched to her dress.

Every single face turned around to stare at her, conversations lowering suddenly as she made her entrance in the lounge by herself. It had never happened before. Until then she had been accompanied every time. Husband, acquaintance, lover or date, facing people's remarks seemed softer when you weren't alone as she was now. For a few seconds she thought about high school and all those years of humiliation and shame to have to stand up in front of the whole class as the teacher introduced her as the perpetual new student.

By then she had wished nothing but to disappear from the surface of Earth, and be forgotten. But then she had started tasting the warmth of lights and being popular had turned into an addiction she irrepressibly needed to feel alive.

Like an unexpected change of wind, she was finding back her old dark dreams suddenly. It was frustrating.

"Would you like a glass of wine?"

"I'd rather have a double-champagne."

Grace nodded at her and headed to one of the caterers to order their drinks, leaving her desperately alone among the crowd of guests. She should have turned down the invitation when she had received it, simply made up some story and she would have been spending the evening at home; alone or with Will.

But there she was instead, widowed at not even forty with nobody by her side for a tacit agreement of lies. It made her feel bitter but if there was one thing Karen always did, it was assuming her decisions; no mattered how they could hurt and weaken her integrity.

She smiled to a few people, nodded at others and exchanged polite words to the ones she barely considered as closer acquaintances.

"Karen, I am so glad you came tonight. I know that the last events haven't turned in your favor but I am sure that from where he is, Stanley is proud of you to still be a part of The Doves of London."

Elisabeth Smith was an elegant woman in her thirties, full of energy; always smiling. She looked genuinely happy and whenever you met her, you couldn't help resenting jealousy because she represented what you had always wanted to be.

She was even too nice for you to be mad at her and even though she would have never said it out loud, Karen had decided to keep in touch with the organization mainly because of her. Elisabeth irradiated like the sun and her presence by your side was a blessing nobody could deny.

"I just couldn't miss out this evening. I mean… For once it is held in Manhattan, I had to be here."

She cast a glance at Grace who was standing by the buffet, speaking to Jack joyfully. When she had received the invitation, Karen had decided to invite her own friends as well. The exercise would be less difficult that way. Besides it was a quiet stratagem to spend more time with Will and yet make it sound normal if not purely random.

She couldn't help smiling as she saw him appear on her left. Every day was a torture, an icy control of her reactions not to stir up any suspicion over their relation. Of course they both knew that one day they would have to tell their friends the truth but they needed time before facing another harsh moment. They needed to live for a little while and stop thinking about the consequences in order to breathe.

The conversation they had had in the morning, when she had burst into tears, had been the last concerning their privacy. She had accepted Will's idea, a bit reluctantly; but still, it had seemed to be the best to do and for the moment, it was rather delighting.

She mentioned him to approach. After all he was the only one who knew Elisabeth for having met her in London as well.

"Oh, good evening… How are you? I'm glad Karen didn't renounce to her collaboration with the association but well, we all know how she loves children."

Instinctively Will stood by Karen's side, slid his hand on her lower back and smiled at Elisabeth who of course, didn't notice the sarcasm of his last comment.

Karen did though and she looked at Will with a fake anger before bursting out laughing, sliding her hand on his back as she mentioned his name in a soft reply to the implicit challenge.

They loved teasing each other. It was exciting but only if they had an audience to witness it. Their so-called confrontations spiced up their bond and within a second they looked inseparable, highly connected with a rare intensity.

It never passed unnoticed; nor did their subconscious gesture to hold each other.

From an outside perspective, a furtive glance at their position resulted enough to come to the conclusion that they were a couple.

Nobody could miss it, Jack and Grace either who were observing them a few steps away, quietly.

But locked in their own sphere and concentrated on the conversation they were having with Elisabeth, they remained unaware of the mere gaze in their direction; unaware of their hands on each other's back in a tender motion.

They were careful all day long, coming up with strong alibis as soon as they decided to share a night because they knew how they weren't allowed to lower their guard. A second would result enough to make everything tip over, all their plans.

But their vigilance seemed to weaken for the first time that night.


	17. Maybe

"Where have you been?"

She wouldn't have been able to say if it had been caused by the icy tone or the inquisitive look but Karen nonetheless stopped halfway between the door and her desk then swallowed hard.

This kind of situation had always been a hard one for her to face. It made her feel insecure, intimidated and weak. It reminded her way too much of her childhood.

"Why, it was my lunch break so logically enough I went for a meal."

Her nonchalant voice didn't break the ice, on the contrary. As she sat down carefully on her chair, she stared at Grace, unsure of what her next gesture should be.

"No, I meant whom did you have lunch?"

Troubled, Karen looked around and tried to win some seconds. The atmosphere was heavy all of a sudden, and terribly cold. She frowned, shrugged and took a deep breath to pretend that she wasn't touched that much by the situation.

"I was on my own, why are you asking that?"

"You're lying. You're seeing someone. Do you have a boyfriend?"

The heat rushed to her cheeks before she could control anything and a nervous laugh hit the air, sounding false.

"I am afraid that my age doesn't allow this kind of term anymore in my vocabulary."

"Don't play with words, you know what I mean."

"Yes but I actually don't understand your insinuation. Are you having suspicions about me?"

One more time her so-called self-confidence resulted ridiculous and fake but she nonetheless kept on pretending to be alright with the scene. Slowly _ her eyes locked with her friend's _ she settled further on her chair and waited for a reply. Perhaps she actually looked calm but inside everything was boiling and her heart seemed on the verge of an explosion.

"Jack said that you refused to go on a date with a friend of his because you weren't looking for anyone. You hate being alone so the conclusions sound logical enough, don't they?"

"My private life is nobody's business but mine."

The sharpness of her incisive reply took Grace aback but didn't put an end to the conversation either. It just seemed that she had finally lost her patience, personally touched by her friend's question.

"That's why we know absolutely nothing about you; which is weird, since we are supposed to be your closest friends. Why don't you trust us, Karen?"

"I do but there are some things I want to keep for myself; some things that don't need to be said because there is nothing sure, nothing important. Giving you all the details of my personal life would probably result boring and vain. I don't pretend that my choices are smart but yet they aren't pointless when I finally mention them."

"So you are seeing someone, am I right? Stanley died a couple of months ago and you have already replaced him."

"That was low and unfair, especially since you don't know anything about my marriage with him. You don't know what it was like, our little agreements and all those lies… You have no idea how our life actually was."

"If you had told us, we might have helped you to go through it."

"It isn't your role. I am the only one who is supposed to deal with this. And I did, as much as I could. So don't expect from me to reveal anything about my life any time soon. I am sorry if you don't like it and feel offended but it is the way I see things. I still can decide about it."

"Fine… I still wonder how you are with them, your lovers. Don't take it bad, it is pure curiosity but I can't help it. For some reason I believe you aren't that close to the woman sat down in front of me right now."

The conversation was slightly getting on her nerves in spite of Grace's abdication before her initial question. She just had never liked speaking about herself. The vulnerability it stirred up was unbearable, harsh.

"And how do you think I am?"

"I don't know. I would say you are sweet, attentive and extremely tender towards them. In a word, you are the exact opposite of the public Karen Walker we all know. Maybe you are also a bit romantic, if not a lot…"

"You are having fun right now, aren't you?"

A timid smile played on Grace's lips. She shrugged and abandoned her desk to approach her friend. From her seat _ looking up _ Karen felt completely dominated and she didn't like it. She had to be in control of the situation, of every single one. What would happen if one day she let go of everything? Her life would simply be a gigantic mess and that, she couldn't tolerate it.

"Actually when I think about you as a sweet woman, I find it rather cute. And I wish you were more like that when with us, more relaxed and fragile. It would sound fairer, for everybody."

"Who knows? Perhaps one day, you will see how I am when in couple."

"Would you like to?"

"You mean being part of a couple?"

"No, show us the real you."

"I don't know. There wouldn't be anything left, then. You would grow tired of me and it would be the end of my little, bewitching mystery."

"But at the same time you would feel relieved."

Grace's remark surprised her a lot and for once, she didn't hide it.

She took her time, looked aside and frowned. How come some words could touch you so violently, just like that; without any warning?

She shrugged, vaguely, and swallowed hard, murmuring.

"Yes, maybe…"


	18. Cardboard Box and Insinuation

The movie scenes when the girl jumped to her boyfriend's neck and he made her twirl around had always left her a bit pensive. The effusion of love sounded ridiculous by then, not realistic enough, so before the others' delighted reaction Karen remained quiet.

She had never understood them, until now.

Every time Will passed the door of the townhouse, she threw herself in his arms and waited for nothing but him to make her twirl around as their lips got locked in a kiss. She loved the firmness of his hands on her waist, how it seemed like he would never let go of her without being sure first that she was safe. And then there was all the rest like this sensation of lightness that spread all over her body and never really went away.

December…

Only three months had passed by but so many things had happened in the end; and this odd chemistry, as soon as her hazel eyes met his brown ones, that made her heart speed up its pace uncontrollably.

She certainly was in love with him.

A hand in his hair, she planted a kiss on his lips and another one on his jaw; laughing lightly. Some people would have found their secret routine exhausting and sad but she couldn't convince herself of the same thing; no mattered they had to lie, pretend and count the hours just to be sure that they wouldn't get attention of any sort.

It was just a matter of adaptation to a new life style like cutting on words and going straight to their main interest when they only had for themselves a couple of hours left.

So she had stopped telling him how she had missed his presence by her side, how she had done nothing but think about him all day long. They went directly to bed and eventually spoke afterwards but dialogue had long ceased to be the priority of their acts.

"I have something for you."

That's why Will's reaction as he pushed her softly away _ breaking their embrace _ took her slightly aback. She looked down and realized for the first time since he had passed the door that he had dropped a bag on the floor, by his side.

"What is it?"

Of course her curiosity had been stirred up immediately but as she bent over to look into the bag, Will grabbed it and led her to the sofa of the living-room. The fireplace was on and she had taken out of the fridge a bottle of white wine but the perspective of some drink had now vanished before his obvious surprise.

She sat down, smiling uncomfortably like every time she wasn't in control of a situation. She really didn't like it.

"First of all, I need to know if you have any allergy."

Raising a dubitative eyebrow, Karen finally shook her head but remained quiet. There wasn't that much time to waste with pointless conversation so she preferred to let him continue and see by herself the reason of his peculiar question.

"Excellent because… I was walking down here when I passed in front of Molly's antique store. You know, at the corner of the subway station. Anyway, the door was open and she was there holding against her the cutest little things that Manhattan can count. Then I remembered how sometimes you complained about living alone here so it just seemed right at the moment and to be honest I simply couldn't resist."

Confused, Karen looked how Will took out of the large bag a small cardboard box to put it on the coffee table. Then, with a lot of care, he plunged his hands in it and a little kitten appeared, meowing softly; a bit scared perhaps, looking all around for some lost references.

"I chose the most beautiful one. It is a female."

Before she got a chance to talk, Karen found herself with a cat on her lap. The little paws were soft against her knees, the heat of the body relaxing. Within a second the kitten settled there, against her stomach, and began to purr.

"I knew that she would love you right away. Molly told me that she was the most independent one and yet needed a lot of sweetness from time to time. You're just alike."

Instinctively Karen made contact with the little grey fur that was now sleeping on her knees and began to caress it slowly.

"Why don't you say anything? You don't like cats?"

Anxiety suddenly took possession of Will's voice as if he had just realized for the first time that it might not have been such a good idea.

"No, I like them. It's just that… Well, getting a cat hadn't crossed my mind and… I don't know if I can."

"What are you talking about?"

A nervous laugh escaped from her lips and she swallowed hard to restrain bitter tears. This kind of realizations was hard and as much as she had never ignored it, putting it into words that would resound loudly was worse.

She took a deep breath, sighed.

"How can I take care of someone else when I can barely take care of myself?"

As usual when she dared to advance depreciative ideas, Will kneeled down in front of her and locked his eyes with hers; his hand cupping her face with a soft strength.

"You are doing very well. What else would make you change your mind about it? You have always been in charge of yourself; no matters you were married. Just because now you live alone here doesn't change anything."

"And then what is it going to prove if I keep it? Why did you think of me in the first place? I know that it's not because of our so-called identical tempers."

Will suddenly seemed uncomfortable, breaking their contact right away. He looked aside, hesitated.

"Because one day you might have to take care of someone else besides of you…"

"And who would that be?"

"Our child…"


	19. In Black and White

"I just wanted to tell you that I had thought about your proposition and… I want it too. I want to have a child with you."

Will's quiet request a few days earlier had stolen her breath _ invaded her mind _ and from then on she hadn't stopped thinking about it. When it should have only confirmed the seriousness of his feelings towards her, she had actually been scared of all the things it meant and how he had plans for a future for them.

Curiously enough she had preferred to ignore this part for once. With her past lovers, the concept of marriage had carried on the whole chronology of her decisions and behaviors but with Will, it had been different since the very beginning. The idea of union didn't sound promising, even less reassuring when it was all she had leaned on until now in her previous relationships.

She still had stronger hopes though. It was an instinctive sensation that seemed to run throughout her body.

As anxiety had spread on her mind _ weighing heavily on her shoulders _ they hadn't talked about it anymore. She had kept the kitten, named it Charlotte and they had turned the page, or so, over his surprising confidence.

It had taken her a few days to come to the awkward conclusion that she might have been ready to have a child with him, not that it had never crossed her mind until then but since none of her previous husbands had ever mentioned a potential motherhood, she hadn't insisted and even thought that their silence might have meant something.

"I have no idea if I actually have any motherly instinct but I am ready to give it a try if you are ever tempted."

She had awoken on Friday and everything had seemed so clear that she had asked him to meet before work, because they needed to speak. The coffee shop didn't own the intimacy that such a declaration would have needed but she had nonetheless told him, with all her honesty and this ounce of insecurity in her voice.

She had been true to him and they had headed to their respective office hopeful and determined about their own story.

But if they had settled down their future, it logically included the fact that they wouldn't be able to hide from their friends for a very long time.

She had passed the door of the office with a barely contained joy, completely unaware of the words that would come up a few minutes after. Perhaps she should have stayed home and called in sick instead, found any reason not to show up there.

Unless it was just written somewhere and they had waited for too long. It was too late.

"Good morning, Gracie."

But as she didn't get any reply, Karen looked up at her friend. Grace's eyes were red, her hands desperately clutched to her chest.

"What is happening? Is there a problem?"

Her voice sounded even higher when she was stressed, anxious. At some point in her teenage years, she had tried to lower her tone in the hope it would settle on a new pitch but it hadn't worked out and she had had no choice but to accept this peculiarity that nonetheless got on her nerves very often.

"Did it start in London or this trip was just an excuse for the two of you?"

Her heart speeded up its pace within a second and her mouth turned dry, the room suddenly spinning around.

"What are you talking about?"

But the tone of her voice didn't sound convincing at all and everything was said, implicitly.

Grace stood up, walked towards her before throwing a black and white picture on her desk. Karen looked down at it and found herself in front of a shoot Will had taken when they were still in London. She was laid on her stomach _ on her bed _ feet in the air and smiling at him brightly. It was a portrait but the curves of her hips in the background clearly advanced the idea that she was naked.

"I didn't mean to rummage through his things. I was looking for tissues. It was in his chest of drawer, the one of his nightstand."

"Grace…"

"Why did you have to ruin everything? Just for a quick fuck with the only man who ever counted to me. How dared you to do that? It might be your private life, your own little ass, but Will… Don't you know what he means to me? Is there something you missed about the two of us, about our past?"

"We never meant to hurt anyone. As a matter of fact we wanted to tell you the truth but we didn't know how and the weeks were passing by… We lost control of it. Grace, I'm so sorry. You are my friend, one of my best friends. I would do anything for you."

"That must be why you slept with Will."

Grace's tone of voice was icy, and calm. The least word hitting the air sent a chill run down her spine and as the seconds were passing by, Karen had the feeling that she was losing strength; abdicating.

"I have never wanted to break anything into pieces. I care way too much about you. You have no idea what our friendship means to me and… And if you want me to stop seeing Will then I will put an end to everything."

On some level she actually meant it, especially if she had to consider the importance of their friendship but before anything she had said it to emphasize the honesty of her feelings; implicitly perhaps but everybody knew about her incapacity to properly show her sentiments, to say them out loud.

That's why Grace's reply surprised her so much, hit her heart and signed a deadly deal.

"Then break up with him. If you really consider me as your friend, break up with Will."

"Excuse me?"

"You just said that you would do anything to prove me your friendship, even put an end to whatever you are living with Will. Then, do it."

A few seconds flew away until Karen realized that she hadn't been dreaming, unfortunately. Confused, she only managed to nod; swallowing hard.

"I will…"

"No, do it now. Call him and break up with him now. Do you really think that I am going to believe you if I can't witness it?"

If she hadn't been ridiculously proud of herself, she would have burst into tears and slapped Grace for her extreme lack of politeness. Instead she got resigned, grabbed her cell phone and dialed Will's number.

It didn't even last a minute.

"Good… Now let's go back to work."

With shaking hands Karen grabbed her bag, stood up and put her coat on. She shook her head at Grace, restraining heavy tears that were asking for nothing but to come out.

"Don't take it bad but I am not feeling fine enough to stay here. I need to go back home, now."

And without waiting for a reply, Karen left the office with a broken heart.


	20. Frustration and Realization

Mechanically, she had closed the door and headed straight to the first floor; abandoned her coat on an armchair then let her body make contact with her bed. The tears hadn't really stopped running since she had left the office but the quietness that seemed to control her sadness added an odd shade to the scene, like this bitter taste in her mouth that wouldn't go away. Something hurt inside, harshly.

She never closed her eyes but nonetheless lost any time reference after a while. Charlotte joined her as the sun had begun to decline and the little body cuddled against her neck warmed up her lonely heart.

For years she had avoided this kind of situations; falling in love with someone and getting hurt at the end. She had married her lovers with the certainty that it would never happen, that she would never have feelings for them. And she had been right until now. But for once she had decided to change the rules and follow another path, a bit reluctant.

She had lowered her guard and was paying for it now.

The night had obviously fallen _ plunging her bedroom in the dark _ when she heard a noise downstairs. The door got slammed.

"Karen, are you there?"

She didn't reply, tightened her grip on the bedspread instead as her heart speeded up its pace. Within a minute light appeared in the corridor, in her bedroom as Jack stepped in.

"Karen…"

His voice was shaking, a bit blank. Obviously he knew everything.

"I don't want to talk. I'm not in the mood for it."

But as he sat on the edge of the mattress, Jack let a laugh escape; a bit shy perhaps but nonetheless soft. It reassured her somehow. Hopefully he wasn't too mad at her and she wouldn't lose him as well, just like the others.

"You have kept your sunglasses on."

But the lightness of his tone didn't find any resonance in her mind and she remained silent, looked down at Charlotte that was now sleeping by her side.

"I would have preferred you to tell me. I feel betrayed by the ones I consider as my dearest friends, just like Grace. It is not that I excuse what she asked you to do _ she told me about it_ but you have to understand the pain it caused to us. It's… Why did you do that? How come you two decided to get involved like that when you perfectly knew about the importance of the past?"

Her throat tightened and she swallowed hard as a new wave of tears welled up in her eyes. She had never liked talking about her sentiments like that; the mere fact of showing them was a torture in itself and she would have wished nothing but to be forgotten and left alone for a while.

She wasn't made for vulnerability. It matched way too much with her insecurities.

"I don't hate you, Karen. This is something that will never happen. You know I just can't. And as much as your lies hurt me, seeing you like that is even worse. Please, stop crying. I… I love you."

In an awkward embrace Jack took her in his arms. She let him do, biting her lips to restrain her sobs. Her mouth tasted blood; she was cold, exhausted.

"You need a tissue."

Jack picked up her bag she had abandoned on the floor and rummaged through it but suddenly stopped, stared at her; astonished. He took a little box out of it; not opened yet.

"Are you…"

She shook her head automatically, vaguely resigned, but didn't say anything.

"Then why do you have a pregnant test in your bag? I might not be a woman specialist but I still know that this is not the kind of things you randomly take with you like a lipstick."

"We had decided to give it a try. We wanted to have a child. Are you satisfied, now?"

She hadn't meant to be rude but the words nonetheless sounded harsh and bare as they hit the air and she stared at him right in the eyes. From the edge of the bed, Jack looked perplexed; completely taken aback.

"I'm afraid I don't understand. We live in Manhattan _ it's a large city _ why from all the men you could have you decided to choose Will?"

"I didn't choose him! Damn… You have no idea how I wish it had been someone else and it would have been so easy, then. I didn't do it on purpose. I have no hold over my feelings. I would have never imagined that I would fall in love with him."

She had screamed it with rage and frustration, torn by the pain and a too-long restrained quietness. It had been an accumulation boiling in her veins, poisoning her stomach and nourishing her fears before exploding in the air without any warning, taking Jack aback, one more time.

It left her breathless.

"I thought it was fling, a mere fling."

"Then you were wrong. Will was everything to me. He was everything…"

The roles seemed to have been reversed and Jack was now the one apologizing, feeling bad before a situation that had obviously slipped through everyone's fingers a long time ago. He looked uncomfortable, all of a sudden.

She just felt empty.

Jack stood up and made a few steps backwards, staring intently at the floor.

"We thought it was just a fling though now I understand why he… I don't know if it's going to change anything but… Will is not feeling fine either. We had no idea that you actually had sentiments for each other and Grace… She just imagined that if you broke up with him then everything would come back to normal but instead you rushed away. Will refuses to leave his bedroom as well and the only thing Grace faces now is the loss of two friends and nothing got solved at all. I'm sorry, Karen. I'm really sorry."

And without any warning, Jack left.


	21. What Life Depends On

A lot of times she had wondered what a life depended on, if it was all about words or a succession of events. Strangely enough she hadn't thought about numbers and how they tended to influence every single aspect of an existence.

Seconds became minutes. Minutes became hours. Hours became days and days became months in a random regularity that seemed to rock her peacefully to sleep until she began to close her eyes and it hit her violently, with the peculiar pleasure to have made her believe a couple of things.

After an interminable moment of indecision, she finally walked out of the bathroom and headed towards her bed a bit mechanically as if her mind were somewhere else. She padded the back of her hand several times with the tablet she was holding then threw it on the mattress. A long sigh escaped from her lips as she looked down at the object that had landed on her bed. She frowned.

Her frustration growing second after second, she hurriedly stepped out of her bedroom and headed downstairs instead. When she had bought the house, she had immediately thought about Christmas time; how she would celebrate it there and maybe even decorate the tree with Will. It sounded cliché but nonetheless sweet.

And then everything had broken into pieces. Christmas was approaching but nobody except Jack ever stopped by anymore. Grace had called once but she hadn't picked up the phone. By then she still spent most of her days in bed, crying in silence. Then one morning she had got up, had had a shower and moved until the living-room. It had never crossed her mind that she could open the door and hit the streets again.

Christmas decorations would be on and without Will by her side _ just like in her quiet fantasies _ it didn't make sense anymore.

A mug of tea in hand, she sat down on the sofa next to the fireplace and turned her laptop on.

She would have lied if she had said that the poor number of emails in her inbox hadn't bothered her the slightest way. She hadn't checked her account for over two weeks _ barely given any sign of life _ and yet nobody seemed to really care. She hadn't got messages from the ones who kept on saying they were her friends.

The realization was harsh and bare but she didn't have time to actually deepen the thought because a name appeared on the screen and it got all her attention, suddenly.

Before she started thinking about it and decide to delete it, she clicked on Will's email and settled further on the couch; took a long breath.

_I miss you. _

_I had sworn to myself that I wouldn't say anything like this but as soon as I began to type, the words came out by themselves. Perhaps it is a sign; that we can't lie, that we can't pretend to be alright when we aren't fine. _

_I could talk about your eyes and the softness of your hands in the morning, how I feel deprived of all these things now you aren't by my side. But what I really miss is your laugh and the way it used to hit the air with such honesty that it warmed up my heart within a second, making me feel so alive. _

_If you had asked me a year ago, I would have never imagined that I would write such things to you at some point. I did care about you but never thought that you would be all for me one day, so soon. I don't know when I fell in love with you. Maybe it happened suddenly unless it was a latent process that blinded me all along. I don't really care because at the end, you are still there; in my heart and in my mind. _

_I love you to death and I need you to go on. _

_Nobody will tell me and I don't dare to ask you properly, a face-to-face._

_That's why I write. It is easier to mention a couple of things that scare us so much when they aren't said out loud. _

_Why did you go away like that? You broke my heart, crashed everything down within a minute; without any warning. Did I put some pressure on you? It was going fast but I had the feeling that it also was terribly logical as if I had finally found the person who could understand the confusion of my mind. _

_And I know I am not wrong about that. You are still the one, as odd as it sounds for the ones who know us; who know about our past._

_I have never wanted to force you in anything, in any way. If you felt offended, please accept my apologies. I know that you have your insecurities _ how you hate them because they drive you crazy _ but I don't understand. You came to me that morning. You said that you were ready. And I believed you because for the very first time, you looked genuinely happy aout a decision concerning your life._

_I love you, Karen. I love you more than anything._

_Please, talk to me._

She remained still and never read the message another time. Instead, she thought about what life depended on; all those numbers that turned into some sort of common sense. She thought about the long minutes she had spent in her bathroom, looking at her reflection in the mirror as if it would bring an answer to her doubts. She thought about the tablet thrown on her bed, how there was a missing date in a regular calendar.

She thought too much and deleted the message from her inbox but didn't really move on.


	22. Breath Missing

She counted until five, swallowed hard and grabbed her pack of cigarettes. She lit one but very soon took it out of her mouth to stare at it intently. Sometimes she had the feeling that she was deprived of logic, that her conscious didn't work out that much.

She rolled her eyes and threw the cigarette in an ashtray on the coffee table.

The days seemed to fly away but her heartache remained. As a matter of fact, the pain was getting stronger because Will never left her mind. He just couldn't. She wouldn't have let him to do so anyway and the words of his email were haunting her mind in a terrifying silence.

Someone knocked on the door. It made her jump, taking her by surprise and pushing away her wonders within a second. She stood up, hoping absurdly for a situation that wouldn't happen. It couldn't be him. She hadn't replied to his message, hadn't tried to call him. He had properly come to his own conclusions and turned the page.

She opened the door and made an instinctive step backwards.

"Karen... I didn't know that you wore glasses."

Grace smiled shyly, uncomfortable enough before their unexpected face-to-face.

"Can I come in?"

A bit disarmed Karen nodded and looked how her friend stepped in, heading straight to the living-room. They hadn't talked since the morning Grace had asked her to break up with Will. On several occasions she had got phone calls but never accepted them; not for being mad at her but because she was scared, felt ashamed.

She had betrayed her, probably hurt her a lot more than what she could actually even think about.

"Do you want to drink something?"

Her voice cracked a little but she couldn't help it. She took a long, deep breath to restrain the tears that were burning her eyes. While being close to Grace, she realized how much she was actually missing Will; how the picture didn't look perfect without him.

"No, thank you. I just want to speak with you… You look tired."

She shrugged Grace's comment away and motioned her to sit down on the sofa next to her. Charlotte jumped on her lap immediately, settling there. She began to caress it, a bit absent-mindedly.

"I am."

"I am deeply sorry, Karen; for all the things I did, said and made you do. It should have never happened and I need to apologize for everything."

"Thank you."

She had said it without any particular feeling, obviously more pushed by a quiet sense of politeness than anything else. She didn't smile either, only looked down at the flames in the fireplace and the little box with Christmas decorations that was waiting on the floor for the day she would decide to get a proper tree and feel like celebrating.

But for the moment, she only wanted to burst into tears.

"I have always considered you as my best friend, as much as we don't talk about these things. I hoped you knew it, implicitly. The fact you became intimate with Will made my little, comfortable sphere explode and you did hurt me. I would lie if I didn't say so. It had cost me so many years to accept the fact that he preferred men; that it was the reason why he had called off everything between the two of us. And all of a sudden, without any warning… I realize that it isn't so true in the end and from all the women he could have, he decided to choose you. That was incredibly painful, making me feel so ashamed, not worth him obviously. However none of that can excuse what I did."

"We never meant to cause you any sorrow. We lacked tact and waited for too long but it was just because we didn't know how to be sincere and yet not hurt you in the process. It was a common agreement, very suffocating though. It was unbearable to face you every day and keep on lying like that. I… Don't take it bad but it isn't a fling and I haven't turned the page over him. I can't. I love him. I am the first one surprised by it but this is how I feel and I have never tried to use him in any way. I never had this kind of purpose. I am losing my breath when he isn't here. It goes beyond me. I have no hold over it. I am sorry."

"I know. Jack told me. We have been wrong about you two and that explains a lot of things, starting with you not returning my calls or showing up at the office and… Will… He left. I haven't got any news from him for a week now. I asked Jack not to tell you anything because I was hoping to find him back and resolve everything but I was wrong, one more time. I thought he wouldn't mind about you breaking up with him since in my head it was just a fling but then he refused to speak to me, spent most of his time in his bedroom and when I told him that I had asked you to put an end to your relationship… He left without any warning."

"Well he didn't come here."

The realization brought tears to her eyes. She swept them away immediately with the back of her hand and swallowed hard. She didn't want to cry, not now.

But as the seconds were passing by, the terrible idea he might never come back was slowly invading her mind.

"Perhaps if you tried to call him we would know where he is and… You would manage to bring him back here. He is in love with you, Karen. It is a very odd thing to say but it is true. I know he hasn't turned the page or anything about you. It is obvious. And if you want to live something with him _ maybe even spend the rest of your life with him _ then I will be happy for you two. You are the greatest person he could actually date, in spite of your little comments and critics. You are… You are my best friend, Karen. You will always be. Now the only thing I ask you is to be honest with me. Please."

Grace's last sentence resounded loud in her head. Karen looked aside, hesitated before taking a deep breath that slid softly on her lips as she locked her eyes with her friend's.

"I am pregnant."


	23. Rainy Days Like This One

"Would you like a drink?"

The question took her completely aback _ putting her infernal wonders on pause _ and she looked at the flight attendant for a few seconds before finding a proper reply.

No, she wasn't thirsty and didn't need anything but him; the heat of his arms around her frame that a stranger would never be able to understand. She nonetheless smiled at the young woman politely then returned to the contemplation of the clouds through the window by her side.

She had followed Grace's advice and called him, not immediately but a few hours later. At some point she had thought that she wouldn't do it because it had to be over. What kind of person went away without turning the page over a love story before? She couldn't but belong to his past and yet she had finally decided to call him, ignoring the loud beats of heart pounding ferociously in her chest.

He had answered, with a sleepy voice nonetheless.

He was in London.

"Why are you there?"

"I was looking for the rain."

They hadn't needed to go into details. Actually their silence had been loud enough to let them understand where they were, and why. She had booked a flight for the morning after, told Grace and Jack and after a sleepless night of terrible excitement, she had found herself boarding; leaving New York behind.

Absent-mindedly Karen passed a hand over her stomach but suddenly stopped as she noticed the gesture. She looked down at her skirt, observing the curves of her body. She hadn't told him about her pregnancy. It would have been awkward on the phone, a bit missed somehow. Besides she didn't know what to think of it; what to do.

She hadn't imagined that it would happen so soon.

The pilot announced their imminent landing in Heathrow. Her heart began to pound louder; she closed her eyes and swallowed hard. They hit the tarmac, stopped.

And now what?

She followed the crowd through the corridors, her passport in hand; exhausted. The doors opened and she saw him. He was standing there among strangers, waiting for nobody but her.

She wouldn't have been able to say how many airport movie scenes she had watched; when at the very end the heroine finally found back the arms of the man she was in love with. The world seemed to stop all around, slowed down defying time and its impartial passing. The camera approached their faces and all you could observe was the way their tears traced a path through their eyes.

She threw herself in his arms.

…

"What have you done since you arrived?"

"I went to Hyde Park, hoping that it would rain and I would find back the weeping-willow we had stopped under, once."

"Did you find it?"

"No…"

A bit tired she leaned her head on his shoulder and caressed his chest absent-mindedly. They had come back to the hotel in an odd silence before making love slowly, softly.

In each other's arms, the words showed up, at last; timidly though. So many things had hurt that the reticence they had to break the silence seemed to be carried on by the idea it might make it all fall down, one more time.

They had changed.

"You have never really left me, Will. All along you were in my mind, in my thoughts and dreams. I know it doesn't sound like me but… I need to say it. It isn't a lie."

"Why did you accept to do what Grace asked you?"

Her hand got suspended in the air at the reminiscence of something she would have preferred to forgot, to bury deep somewhere and let time do its work of ignorance. But his question was fair, honest.

She bit her lower lip, on the verge to cry. She felt bad, guilty.

"I freaked out."

"What do you mean?"

She hadn't mentioned it to anyone, not even to herself. All along she had tried to convince her own mind that if there was someone to blame then it was Grace. But she had her part of responsibility in it and it might have been time to accept it.

"I freaked out before my feelings for you and the way we had just settled down everything. It had happened so fast and yet sounded so logical that… I don't know. All of a sudden it was like I didn't have any reference at all but you and only you. What if it doesn't work out, Will? What if for some reason we break up for real this time? What if one of us dies? What if… I wouldn't be able to handle it. So it seemed easier to put an end to it before something like that happened."

"This is how life works, Karen. Unfortunately or not. We have no hold over it and that's why it is important to enjoy the present. I wish I could promise you all these reassuring ideas but I can't because I don't know what tomorrow is made of. For the moment though, all I can say is that I am in love with you and I have missed you a lot."

"I am pregnant. Three months… It happened here, in London."

She hadn't imagined to tell him that way, without any warning; not even looking into his eyes. The words had simply slid on her lips and she hadn't tried to hold them back.

She sat up in bed _ turning her back at him _ and leaned her chin against the palm of her hand.

"I am pregnant…"

As her whisper resounded like a soft realization, Karen looked by the window across the bedroom. The sky was gray, with heavy clouds.

She smiled.

She felt so fine on rainy days like this one.


End file.
